


The Only Man

by egosoffire



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Abuse Mentions, M/M, implied rape, slave AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-08-18 07:11:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 28
Words: 18,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8153425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egosoffire/pseuds/egosoffire
Summary: Instead of prison, Frank Castle is reconditioned as a slave. He is then given to the lawyer who tried to defend him.





	1. Chapter 1

The woman walked towards Matt with a steady, confident stride. There was no question who she worked for. She was with New York City's law enforcement, but it was more than obvious to Matt that she was no cop. She had the confident, steady stride of a slave officer. Matt did not like those in the Slave Office at all. He was never one to stereotype, but they were often the same - they were cocky, arrogant and often violent. They thought very highly of themselves and their work.

"Hello, Mr. Murdock," she said, voice dripping with arrogance. She reached out a hand, and although Matt sensed it, he did not take it. He was, after all, a blind lawyer and nothing more. She only spoke again once she dropped her hand. "My name is Marjorie French, and I'm with the New York Slave Office." 

"Nice to meet you."

Matt spoke cordially, while all the while listening to her heartbeat. It was racing, fast. It wasn't a negative rush, though. She was excited, energized.

"I'm here to speak to you about Frank Castle," she said, her voice lowering out of a falsified respect. "As you probably knew, Castle has been in our reconditioning program for the last six months."

"Six months?" Matt asked innocently, even though he knew that it had to have been that long, because there had been no word of Castle's release into slavery. "Isn't the usual period of slave reconditioning a bit shorter?"

"Yes, it is. Unfortunately, Frank Castle was a unique case. He required a bit more of an...intensive series of retraining sessions."

"I see," Matt murmured, quietly. He tried his very best to act nonplussed by her words. The truth was, he couldn't stand slavery, and thinking about anyone, even someone like Frank Castle, being 'reconditioned' was enough to make his stomach twist. "So, Castle's done with his reconditioning. I assume that means he's being put into the slave population..." 

"He is," she responded. "Mister Murdock, are you aware of Slave Bill 13B?"

Matt paused. He didn't remember everything about the law, but as he stood in front of the Slave Officer, memory of that particular law came back, crashing down on him. Now, he knew exactly why this woman was here. 

"Slave Bill 13B states that those responsible for the legal representation of a criminal later convicted and sentenced to slavery can claim ownership of said slave."

"Oh, you do know your stuff, Murdock," she said, clapping her hands together. "Well, yes. It's not always called upon, unless a lawyer specifically evokes the law, because well, most lawyers aren't equipped to handle a former mass murderer. However, due to the delicate nature of the Castle case, the Slave Office decided to seek out Nelson & Murdock..." 

"The firm has been dissolved," Matt said, voice hard. 

"I'm aware," she responded. "The law still stands, though, even if your firm no longer does."

"Foggy..."

"We already approached Mr. Nelson," she said delicately. "His response was...let's just say 'violently negative.' He refused, and said that we could send Castle to the auction block. I still felt that it was in my best interest to ask you first." 

Matt paused. His heart jumped into his throat. 

"Yes." 

The word just came out of him. Matt hadn't even known that he was going to say it. 

"You'll do it?" she asked delicately.

"Yes. I'll do it." 

Matt could sense the smile on her face. It came across in the joy that flowed through her words.

"Fantastic Mr. Murdock!" the Slave Officer declared. "I'm afraid that things would get very messy if someone less ethical got their hands on Frank Castle. I think that you are the only man who can do this." 

"I am," he whispered. 

Word about Matt's choice got around fast. Foggy didn't dare come see him about it, but Karen did, immediately.

"Matt, what the hell?" she asked. There was a fire in her, as always, that intimidated Matt deeply. "You're taking on ownership of Frank Castle? There's no way that this can end well. Not with who he was, and who he's undoubtedly going to be when he comes to you, and...not with who you are." 

"I have to, Karen." 

"Why?" she asked.

"Because...I have to!" Matt yelled. Karen flinched then, just slightly, and guilt overwhelmed him. He knew better than to yell at her, after all they had been through. "Karen...I have to." 

"Why?" Karen asked, nearly whimpering out the word. "Matt, you and I...we may never really be on the same side of things again, but you're not a bad man. You're not a slave owner." 

"I'm not," Matt replied, instantly. "I'm not, but I have to be. Karen, think about this. Frank means something to you, doesn't he?" 

"What do you mean by that, Matt?" 

"You felt a connection to him when you met him," Matt said, earnestly. "So did I. He's a dangerous man and he deserved to be punished for his crimes. No matter what the people he killed did, he took lives recklessly, and without thought. Yet, you and I both saw the other side of him, too. We saw that he was a good man, who loved his family, and yet when he lost them..."

"Trust me, Matt, I know the conflict that Frank causes. I've been dealing with it since the moment we met him." 

"What do you think would happen if Frank went on the market?" Matt asked, stepping back to give Karen the space she was signaling that she desperately needed. 

"He'd be bought," Karen said quietly. "The price would be...insane."

"It would," Matt agreed. "So think about it for a moment, Karen. Why would the Slave Office invoke a rarely-used law granting lawyers ownership of former clients? Why would they do this when the state stood to gain so much money? Who would buy Frank Castle?" 

"Someone very rich with a vendetta," Karen admitted, turning her head slightly. Matt could tell that she was upset. "Frank would be brutalized, killed, and the slave system would be thrown into chaos." 

"Exactly," Matt replied. "Slavery is a complex institution, Karen. Reconditioning costs the state a huge amount of money."

"And slavery was created to cure the country's growing criminal justice issues," Karen agreed quietly. "The Slave Office wants to make sure that people get to see a reconditioned, re-trained Frank Castle. They want to prove that even The Punisher can be trained into a nice little obedient slave." 

"What better way to do that then to put him in the hands of a kind-hearted blind lawyer?" Matt asked, bitterly.

"My family was never well-off enough to even think about owning slaves," Karen said, a slight hitch in her voice. She was not quite crying, but Matt could sense the pain this was causing her. "I didn't think about them much, but one of my father's friends had a slave. I remember being very scared of her. The look on her face was always just so...broken. She looked blank inside. Whatever they do to recondition slaves must be hell, Matt."

Matt nodded slowly, thinking about his own experiences with slaves. As a child, they'd been a non-issue to him as well, but he saw more than his fair share of them during law school. Several of his classmates had a collared man or woman knelt by their desk in classes, or following them around the campus subserviently, carrying their things. Elektra had also owned slaves...

"I can't even fathom it," he admitted. "I remember when I studied slave history in school that the standard time for a criminal to be reconditioned is two to three months. Castle's been in for six." 

Karen inhaled sharply.

"What are you going to do once he's yours, Matt?" she asked. "You're going to be the man with the sole responsibility. How are you going to cope with that?" 

"I don't know."


	2. Chapter 2

Matt arrived at the Slave Office early. He had been informed over the phone that he'd have to arrive at 10am, where he would sign the legal papers of ownership, be debriefed, and then Frank Castle would be transferred to his ownership personally. It was 9:35, and Matt stood in front of the Slave Office, staring at it. 

He tried to take in what he could from the place. It was a tall office building. It was heavy brick and there were few open windows, so he couldn't get much from it as far as sound went. There was a light chattering, but it was all innocent office chit-chat and nothing more.

He entered the building slowly. 

"Mr. Murdock!" said a warm, male voice. Matt could tell that the man was sitting at a desk until his arrival. Upon Matt's arrival, the man walked over to him, got close enough, and then shook his hand. "You're early. My name is James, Mrs. French's personal assistant. I'm glad that you're here so promptly. We can take care of some of the paperwork now." 

Before Matt knew it, he was seated at a glass table, signing piles of paperwork. James had to read most of it to him, but Matt knew he was telling the truth and reading accurately. He signed the documents, his own heart pounding so hard that it nearly leaped out of his throat.

"Mr. Murdock, this next form is asking about slave discipline," James said quietly. "You stated on an earlier form that you've never owned a slave, nor has anyone in your immediate family. Can I take that to also mean that you've never had to discipline a slave?" 

"That would be correct," Matt murmured. 

"We are going to strongly recommend that you take our Discipline 101 class at the local community college. It's held twice monthly on Sunday nights. It goes over all of the basics - implements, methods, legal ways that one can deal with a slave that crosses a line. Though, I am sure that with the amount of training Castle has been through, he will cross very few lines." 

"I will look into it." 

Soon, the lovely Mrs. French arrived. She walked over to Matt shook his hand again. 

"Hello Matthew," she said, voice unnaturally warm and friendly. "I hope that James has been treating you well. I'm afraid we weren't able to get Braille copies of our documentation fast enough, but I'll be having an entire manual sent to you later this week." 

"It's no problem," Matt said evenly.

"Good!" she replied, that fake warmth never leaving her tone. "James, is he ready to have his slave brought out now?"

"Yes, Ma'am." 

"Perfect. Follow me." 

Matt followed her down the hall to a meeting room. Inside, he detected a desk and chairs. She took him by the arm, rather rudely, and guided him over to one of the chairs.

"Please have a seat. I'll be right back." 

Matt sat in the little room, with only his own breathing to listen to. He was honestly scared. He wasn't sure what Frank would be like when they dragged him into the room. He wasn't sure that he was even remotely capable of dealing with such a thing. 

Then, he heard footsteps. There were heavy, confident heeled footsteps and the shallow steps of a man, a slave guard. Dragging between them were quiet, barely there footsteps, accompanied by a racing heart. 

That was Frank.

The door opened and Matt heard Frank go to his knees. 

"He's spent the last week being conditioned to have full understanding that you are his master," the woman explained. "He may be a bit skittish at first. You'll be perfect for your new master, won't you, slave?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

Matt paused and stared a moment. Then, the woman put something in his hand - a lead that was nothing more than a short dog leash. Matt pulled on it tentatively and felt Frank's large mass move towards him on instinct. 

"Are you ready to go, Matthew?"

Matt nodded. 

"Yes, I do believe I am, ma'am." 

"Do you need help hailing a cab?"

"Yes, please," he said, and without another word, he and the woman, along with Frank, walked up to the front and out of the building.


	3. Chapter 3

Matt did not dare speak to Frank during the cab ride back to his apartment. He could hear the man's shallow breathing, and when he touched the back of his neck, he could feel the beat of his heart. They had dressed Frank in only a thin t-shirt and worn work jeans. It was far too cold for that. He tried his best to just rub his hand along Frank's arm, a comforting gesture.

It wasn't until they were in the apartment that Matt felt he could function properly again. 

"It's okay Frank," he said softly. "It's fine..." 

Frank did not respond.

Matt moved across the room and turned the heat on. 

"We'll find you some clothes," he said, his words eliciting no response. "Here, I'll take that collar off of you..."

Matt walked over to Frank and felt up the line of the collar around his neck. He reached the clasp, which he undid, rather carefully. He took it off and set it down on the counter nearest Frank. 

"Go ahead and sit down." 

Frank said nothing, but did not move from where he knelt. Matt could hear the tiniest of sounds - whimpers escaping his lips, but other than that, he made no sound.

"Frank, I give you permission," Matt said firmly, realizing what he was dealing with. "Go, sit on the sofa, while I get you some clothes." 

Frank then moved, hurrying quickly over to the sofa, where he sat down. He sat, but there were tiny shifts in his body that nobody but Matt would be able to sense. He was terrified, conflicted between following the order given to him by his Master and the fact that it had probably been drilled into his head that he had no worth, that something as simple as sitting was not permitted.

Once he was sure that Frank was seated, Matt went into the bedroom. Frank was bigger than he was, but he had old clothing that would fit the man. He could buy more later. He selected a large, worn out shirt that was made of a thicker, warmer material than the one Frank on. He then found pants that seemed right. He returned to the living room.

Frank had not moved an inch. Matt handed him the clothes and Frank took them, dutifully. Matt could feel his gaze, full of fear. 

"Put them on," Matt said, trying his best to keep a strong, steady tone. The details of slave reconditioning were never made absolutely clear to the general population, but he was certain that he was dealing with an utterly broken man. "Frank, do you know who I am? Do you remember me?" 

Frank slowly began to put on the clothes. He seemed awkward, like he didn't exactly remember how to use his body. He was utterly unashamed of nakedness though, because he cast off his clothes quickly and did not falter or look away from Matt. 

"Yes, sir." 

"Who am I?" Matt asked. 

"You're Matthew Murdock, sir," Frank said softly, voice wavering slightly. "You're a lawyer, and...something else. You own me."

It was a barely detectable change, the little waver in Frank's voice, but one that accurately displayed his utter terror. He was so afraid. It left Matt staring.

"Do you remember the trial, Frank?" he asked. 

"Yes, sir." 

"I know that this is going to be hard for you," he murmured, touching Frank's arm lightly. Frank flinched, and suddenly stopped changing his clothes. He had the new pants on, but his shirt was still off. "It's going to be hard for me too, but if you can manage it, you don't have to call me sir. I don't want you to." 

"I can't, sir." 

Matt couldn't help the feeling inside of him, like his heart was being wrenched and twisted. Frank looked so broken. There was no saying what damage had been heaped on top of the psychological hell that Frank had already endured. 

"Don't worry about it," he said. "Let's eat something and rest and we can figure out more in the morning."


	4. Chapter 4

Matt didn't sleep that night. Instead, he watched Frank to make sure he slept. It had nearly induced a panic attack to suggest Frank take his bed, so Matt had left him to sleep on the sofa, a soft blanket over him. He listened for over an hour until Frank's rate of breathing dropped and he was asleep.

Luckily, Frank did not have nightmares, but Matt could tell while watching him that there was a lot of pain there. He slept curled into himself, his breathing low and every so often he would make a low whining sound that meant only one thing - hurt. 

It turned out that Matt's new duty had been leaked to the public within the hour. As he sat in a chair, watching Frank sleep, his phone alerted him to a slew of new emails which he had the text reader on his phone read out.

This he began to regret instantly.

Many of the messages were clear in the opinion that death was the only proper punishment for Frank. One said that he deserved to be in pieces, rather than "serving some soft, blind lawyer who will never lay on the whip properly." People expressed their disbelief and utter disgust and shame in the system, but the people who thought Frank needed to die weren't the only ones. Some of the messages were from those who admired Frank, revered him as a hero for the things he had done. Matt was, in their opinion, an awful person for taking The Punisher off the streets. Those emails seemed to pay no attention to the fact that Matt wasn't the one who condemned Frank to slavery. In fact, he'd tried to avoid it.

One email stood out to Matt. It was from an anonymous address that gave no indication of the person's name, age, or gender. 

"Please don't stop him from doing what he has to do," the email begged, in the text-reader's mechanical voice. "One of the men Frank Castle killed destroyed my life. He did it to hundreds, if not thousands just like me - when we were only children. The Punisher made sure that he'd never hurt anyone again. If you truly believe in him, you won't stop him." 

Matt groaned and tossed his phone across the table lightly, just far enough to make it skid across the surface. 

This was enough to wake Frank up. The man stirred on the sofa, groaning in confusion.

"Frank?" he asked, standing up and approaching the man. 

Frank scrambled off of the sofa and nearly hurt himself in the clamor to drop onto his knees. Matt lurched forward a bit, in his eager desire to stop the other man, but he couldn't.

"Frank?" he asked gently.

"Yes, sir." 

"Stand up," Matt said softly. He did not like the calm, assertive tone he had to take, but he had a feeling that it was what Frank needed, especially in the condition he was in. "Stand up and look at me, Frank."

Frank stood up and looked straight at him. Matt could practically feel the burn of Frank's steady gaze. 

"Do you remember the trial well?" Matt asked gently. He was just trying to get a gauge for what had happened in the months that followed - even though he was convinced that he'd never be able to bear what happened if he found out.

Frank, of course, responded immediately.

"Yes, sir."

"What do you remember?" 

"I remember you and Mr. Nelson representing my case, sir," Frank murmured demurely. "You were very brave, both of you were. He was...well-spoken, sir."

Matt winced at the memories. He had failed Foggy when he needed him most, and now here he was, paying his penance of sorts. 

"Do you want to talk about what happened afterward?" he asked.

Frank didn't speak, but Matt heard his breath hitch. 

"We don't have to," he said immediately. "I don't want to. I just wanted to make sure that if you needed to talk about it, that the option was there for you."

Frank didn't say anything, but Matt knew he nodded slowly.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cw - anxiety, more hints of abuse

Matt needed help. It hit him as he listened to Frank taking a shower in the other room. It had been near murder to try and get the man to shower without explicit orders, and he was downright terrified. He needed help and he didn't know who to go.

That was one of the major issues that came with having nobody at all. Matt thought about going to church, to try and find some answers with God, but he immediately dismissed that idea. He couldn't leave Frank alone.

He called Karen, but she didn't answer. He thought about calling Foggy, briefly, but the discomfort of what he was enduring with Frank was already too much. He could not take the added pain of talking to his former best friend, he just couldn't.

Eventually, he got into contact with Claire. The nurse had moved and quit her job, but he still had her contact number. 

"You only call me when it's an emergency, do you understand?" she had told him. "You better be missing a limb, Daredevil." 

Well, he wasn't missing a limb, but he was caught in a cycle of panic that he could not escape. His heart was beating too fast and he needed someone who could help.

"What's going on?" she asked. It wasn't exactly the best way to answer a phone call, but he could not blame her, given all of the things that he'd put her through in the time since they'd met. "Matt...are you there?" 

"I'm here, Claire," he murmured. "I'm fine. I'm not hurt. I just really need help and I don't know who to turn to..."

"What is it?"

"Did you hear about Frank Castle?"

"No," she murmured. "What is it?"

Matt laughed anxiously. Of course she hadn't heard about it.

"He got released into slavery," he explained. "The Slave Office invoked a rarely used law that states a defense lawyer can take possession of a client in case of that client's conviction. I took him. I really didn't have a choice." 

To his surprise, she didn't argue with that.

"He'd have been tortured and killed otherwise," she said evenly. "Matt, this doesn't make him a good person, though, or someone you can trust. I mean, I still remember what it was like when he shot up the hospital..." 

"I know that," Matt said quickly, although he tried hard not to sound dismissive. "Really, I do. I just... I don't know what to do right now and I thought you might have insight..."

"What about your friends?" she asked.

When he didn't answer immediately, he heard her soft disappointed sound. Immediately, Matt was ashamed. Claire had known that he was throwing everything away, but she had not figured out that yes, he really had. 

Claire sighed heavily and then spoke up again. 

"I don't know much about slave training," she admitted out loud. "I know that it's horrible and violent and that slaves rebel sometimes, but not enough for me not to be terrified of even thinking about what they do at the Slave Office." 

"I don't really want to know either," Matt admitted. "He's skittish and afraid of crossing me specifically. That indicates that they trained him to know that I owned him..." 

"Christ," Claire murmured, breathing deeply. Matt could hear her anxieties and he felt awful for burdening her with yet another problem. "You're going to be have to be really gentle with him. Have you ever dealt with abuse victims before? I mean, as a lawyer or...not a lawyer..."

"Yes, a few times," Matt murmured. 

"I think that your best bet is going to be treating him like any other victim of abuse or trauma," Claire replied. Her words sounded awkward, like she was thinking through things as she spoke. "Be gentle and encouraging, and try to spark up very casual conversation." 

Matt nodded. It was simple advice, but at least Claire was thinking rationally. He knew she was right. He did have to handle Frank like an abuse case, even if it was an exceptional one. 

"Thank you," he said. "I didn't want to call, but I'm just...freaked out."

"It's okay Matt." 

Matt sighed, and that was when he heard the shower turn off.

"He's getting out of the shower," he said. "I need to go." 

He hung up, quickly. 

Frank came into the room quickly. 

"You feel better now?" Matt asked, finding his casual tone to be rather awkward. 

"Yes sir," Frank said gruffly.

"Good," Matt said gently. "I'm sure that you really didn't have a lot of opportunity to get cleaned up nicely before." 

Frank then stopped moving altogether. For a second, it was like his breathing had stopped too. He dropped down onto his knees, curled up into himself and his breathing started again, a rapid, terrified sound that Matt didn't understand. Then he realized. 

Frank was panicking.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mild mention of sexual assault

Frank seemed like he was in another place. When Matt knelt down and got closer, he could tell that Frank's eyes were shut, his heart was racing, and he was rocking back and forth lightly. 

"Frank?" Matt asked, leaning over an brushing a hand against his cheek. It was meant to be a comforting gesture, but in it, he felt how hot Frank's skin was. He had worked himself up so much. "Frank, look, I don't know what you're thinking about, but it's okay. It's not here." 

"They watched... They're always watching," Frank murmured. "The officers came in and they..." 

"Did they do something to you in the shower?" 

"After."

Frank then looked up and met Matt's gaze. It was like he had snapped out of the daze he'd been in before. He was thinking clearly.

"Always made me shower..."

Matt swallowed, his heart dropping considerably. Yes, he'd suspected sexual assault was a part of it, but part of him had hoped that it ended with physical abuse.

"I'm sorry Frank," he murmured. He reached over and laid a hand on Frank's shoulder. It slid down his back and Matt could feel thick, rough edged scars there. "I know it must feel near impossible to believe, but I'm not going to hurt you, or...or rape you. I took you as mine because I wanted to keep you safe."

Frank stood up slowly. He looked away from Matt.

"He said they'd take it all," he whispered. "That I deserved it. I do deserve it, maybe, sir."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I know why I got convicted," Frank responded. "I know what I did. I didn't forget all the people I killed. They acted like I was going to suddenly forget, or be unaware of it. I remember exactly what I did, and what I deserve..."

"Frank, we shouldn't talk about this right now..." 

"Yeah. Yes, sir."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW Mild mentions of sexual assault.

Eventually, Karen visited. 

Matt could still sense the discomfort she had in being around him, so he was eternally thankful for her. He was handling way too much all by himself. It was too much pressure and he was deathly afraid that if he allowed himself to get overwhelmed, then Frank was going to be the one to suffer. 

"Where is he?" she asked, her heart thumping in her chest. She was so scared that Matt was half surprised she didn't turn around and run. 

"He's in my bedroom," Matt told her, gently. "It's been a struggle just getting him to eat, sleep and shower. He's been through hell, Karen. I haven't even begun to think about getting him out of the apartment, but I know I have to soon." 

"He'd have to be collared and it'd draw a ton of attention..."

"Exactly why I can't even bein to fathom how that's going to be," Matt responded, dejected. "He's terrified that I'm going to..."

"Going to what?"

Matt swallowed. 

"He was sexually assaulted at the slave office," he said, even though he felt that wasn't his to tell. "He's convinced that I intend to do the same." 

Karen clasped a hand to her mouth.

"Did you show him that he was safe?" she asked, the horror in her voice overwhelming. 

"I told him..."

"You have to show him," Karen said. "Show him by being gentle, not taking advantage. It's going to take a ton of time. Trust me on that." 

Matt nodded, slowly. 

"I've been trying," he said softly. "I'm trying so hard, Karen..." 

"It's just going to take time," she said softly. "I'm going to go talk to him." 

Matt stood there like an idiot while Karen walked off into the bedroom. He groaned and ran a hand through his hair. He was trying to keep calm, trying to relax, but every single nerve impulse in his body was on fire. His senses were alight and he couldn't breathe.

Panic getting the best of him, Matt walked outside. Just out the front door, something got into the muddled state of his mind. A scream.


	8. Chapter 8

A girl.

Alone. Someone near her fell... was shot? 

He ran back into the house, going into his bedroom and pulling out Daredevil - the mask he wore, the mask he needed in order to survive.

"Matt, what the hell?" asked Karen. He turned and realized that she was sitting on his bed with Frank. Their bodies were close together, as if they had been talking in whispers. "What are you doing?" 

"There's a girl," Matt said. "She's been hurt, and someone's trying to get her. I need to be there."

"Just go." 

Matt had, over the past year, mastered the ability to transform himself into Daredevil in moments. He was keenly aware of what was happening next to him, though. Frank was rocking a bit, shaky and then looked over at Karen. 

As Matt was rushing out the door, Frank murmured to Karen, "I guess he's still off trying to save the world. It's not gonna work..." 

Those words were discouraging at best. 

Matt ignored them, however, and moved as fast as he could. He darted down the connecting path of alleyways that made up his home. He was almost thankful for the emergency, as it cleared his mind and allowed him to just act. Matt liked it better at times when he could act - not think. Action was easier and had a clearer path. Action made something that resembled sense. 

He darted towards them, grabbing the man from his left and pulling him, dragging him to the floor. The man hit the ground, scraping against the concrete. 

"What do you want with the girl?" Matt growled. 

The man turned on him and gripped him around the neck. Matt was surprised by the swiftness of his movement. 

"Maybe you were the target all along," he snarled. "Killed one of the bosses' people and now he wants you dead. Imagine if I could be the one to do it."

Matt struggled against him, flipping him back, but the man was particularly sturdy. He took what he could from the sounds and smells all around him. The man was young, afraid, but ambitious. He had planned this in order to get the jump on Daredevil himself. 

He was an idiot.

"I didn't kill anyone," he gasped out, lost in the fight. Everything moved so fast, and his words were the only thing that came out slow. "I don't kill..." 

"His right hand man died in the hospital!" yelled the assailant. "He died of a brain bleed and with him died too many of the big man's secrets."

Distressed at the idea he might have killed someone, Matt froze. His entire body just froze up and that gave his attacker the upper hand. He got Matt around the throat.

The gunshot rang out and he fell flat on the ground. It was a headshot. He was dead. 

Frank stood looking at him with a terrified expression.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know the short chapters are bugging some people, but I'm transitioning it over from the kink meme and I'd really like to keep the breaks I have. That's why I'm uploading two chapters at a time.

"Frank..." Matt said in a whisper. He looked down at the body in between them, and then to the handgun in Frank's hand. 

Karen came running seconds later. 

"What happened?" she asked, blinking. "Frank, we were talking and you..."

"Yeah, I know, ma'am," Frank told Karen, but his eyes were not on her. They were absolutely locked onto Matt. Frank was staring at him, waiting for him to act. His eyes were terrified, but there was something else beneath that terror. Matt saw the spark of defiance, the spark of who Frank really was deep down. "I realized you couldn't do it, sir. Your form was down, you haven't slept..."

"You killed him," Matt whispered, still a bit surprised.

Then, he realized that was probably the wrong choice of words, because Frank was looking at him with a bit of a terrorized look of defiance. They had not beaten that last shred of it out of Frank, but that didn't mean the man wasn't scared. 

"Ma'am, you should leave," Frank said, turning his attention to Karen. "I know that I went against your wishes, sir. Can I ask that she leave?"

"Why should she leave?" Matt asked. Then he paused and realization dawned over him. His heart beat a little faster and he stammered to speak. "Wait...I..."

"He's not going to punish you, Frank," Karen said finally, managing the words for him. "Ma...Daredevil, we need to go inside now and get you cleaned up, okay? I'll call the police and let them know about the...the body..." 

"She's right; I'm not going to punish you," Matt said, trying to pretend above all things that he was calm. He was anything but, but Frank was in no mental state to know that. "You saved me, Frank, and that's all that matters. You're right. I wasn't mentally equipped to handle an attacker and I let him get the upper hand because my mind's been everywhere lately." 

"I'm a killer," Frank told him, looking up with an intense stare that Matt could actually feel. "I'm a cold blooded killer and I deserve everything I got in the Slave Office, sir. I know that and you know it too, but you're far too kind to say so... You were relieved when I got put away. I could read it on you, sir. I won't forget that." 

"Frank. Daredevil. Inside." 

Both looked at Karen and then Matt nodded.


	10. Chapter 10

"He's right," Matt murmured, looking over at Karen. 

Frank had gone into the other room to occupy himself with cleaning up the bedroom and Matt's Daredevil supplies. Matt had made an off-handed remark about getting that stuff put away and Frank had taken it as an order. 

"Right about what?" Karen asked.

"I felt like he deserved the sentence he got," Matt whispered, looking away. He never really made eye contact, but with people like Karen, he could often feel their stares and wanted to avoid hers. "When he was sentenced to slavery, I was honestly relieved. I mean, I know it was our job to defend him and we...I messed up, but I felt that slavery was...okay at the time." 

"You didn't realize that he'd be sexually abused." 

"No, I didn't know that the Slave Office condoned sexual abuse," Matt agreed. "I mean, they're very hush-hush about their actions. Even in law school, you don't learn too much about them aside from their being there as a sentencing option. That doesn't excuse me, though."

"Why not?"

"There was no way for me to not know they use physical abuse in their training," Matt said. "Come on, Karen. Have you ever been deluded enough to think that the Slave Office didn't beat slaves?"

Karen paused. She opened her mouth and then closed it again.

"No," she admitted. "I guess I pushed it to the back of my mind, but I've always known slaves get beaten."

"That's a major problem with society," Matt murmured, thinking about it. "We try and hide from the things that are unpleasant, or that we'd rather not know. I mean, I'm a lawyer." 

"Have you ever been involved in someone getting a slavery sentence?" Karen asked. "I mean, that's only given for pretty...heavy crime." 

"Not directly," Matt replied. "At least not before Frank..."

"You weren't involved in his being given slavery, not really, Matt." 

"Don't defend me when you don't even believe that," Matt told her, quickly. "Frank might have stood a chance if I had been there when Foggy needed me. He probably would have been transferred to a psych ward or something like it."

"Maybe," Karen finally said after a moment. "Maybe if you had your head on then Frank would have been saved, but you didn't, and he wasn't." 

"Then there's a matter of the guy he just offed." 

"What about him?" Karen asked, quietly.

"He said that I killed one of his bosses' people, for one," Matt began. "I don't kill, Karen. I've never killed someone. Not even as close as I've come, I swear that I haven't."

"Then he was lying to throw you off?" Karen suggested. "Maybe it's gone around the super villain bulletin board that Daredevil doesn't kill. What does that matter?" 

"I guess that it doesn't matter," Matt said, "but this doesn't fit the motive of any villain that I've faced so far. Someone's developed a vendetta against me for a reason." 

"You're Daredevil," Karen said, shaking her head. "You're going to have someone with a vendetta against you as long as you wear that stupid mask." 

Matt knew that she was right, of course, but that did not make the words any less difficult to deal with. 

"I'm going to go see Frank." 

Karen picked up her phone and he could her finger moving along the display. 

"I need to go to work Matt," she said. "Something's gone down and all I'm getting is that I need to be there right away. Try your best not to overthink things, okay? Frank is your priority now, not some evildoer with a thing for Daredevil. I'll see you."

"Okay...I'll...I'll see you." 

As soon as she left, he went to the bedroom. 

"Frank?" he asked.

Frank was standing near the counter, staring at the floor intently. Matt could tell because of the path of his short, shallow breaths. 

"I need it," Frank murmured, never looking up. "I think that I need it to survive." 

"What are you talking about?" Matt managed, trying to remain calm. That wasn't exactly easy, considering the fact that he'd felt on the verge of a panic attack since the moment that Frank had become his slave. "Frank, can you explain what you mean? We can sit down in the front room..." 

Frank wordlessly moved into the living room and sat down on the sofa. Matt sensed where he was and sat beside him. He kept a slight distance between the two of them, just to be safe. 

"When I woke up, I tried to kill myself," Frank explained, not even adding the 'sir' that followed most statements. "I was crazy, and I guess there was brain damage or whatever, so I freaked out and tried to use the tools in the drawer nearby." 

"I'm sorry Frank," he whispered. 

"Don't be sorry, sir, unless you're sorry I didn't manage it." Frank's words were cold and for a moment, he went quiet. Then, he spoke up again. "I attacked an orderly who was just trying to save my life. Then, once I had managed to get free of the hospital it hit me." 

"What did?"

"That I was going to make every single one of the bastards involved pay, and then I was going to end it, sir. That was all I wanted." 

"Oh..." Matt murmured, feeling awkward. What did he say to that? Was he sorry that Frank had been cut short on his life's mission? "I see." 

"I'm not done yet," Frank murmured, after a long moment where neither man spoke. "I'm not done yet at all. I think that you're going to have to end up killing me, sir."

"I'm not going to kill you, okay?" 

"Whatever you say, sir."


	11. Chapter 11

Matt was no stranger to nightmares. Honestly, he had experienced far more of his own than most people. Frank's nightmares, however, seemed different. They made his heart beat so fast, and put his body on high alert. For several nights in a row, he watched as Frank slept, listening to those sharp breaths that indicated to him something was wrong. He'd even reached over and touched Frank's hand, to find it was clenched in a tight fist.

"I have nightmares every time I sleep," Frank told him bluntly, when he'd first asked. "Mostly they're just about being on my knees, being forced to beg. Sometimes it's about the past, I guess, but mostly I'm just someone else's play thing." 

This time, Frank exhaled, looked straight at him, and then a soft gasp escaped him. 

"Sir, were you watching me sleep?" he asked with a shaky breath. It was weird to hear Frank's usually harsh, haughty tone but with the submissiveness and the 'sir' still there. 

"I was," Matt admitted. "You were having a nightmare. I was concerned."

"I was, yeah," Frank admitted, slowly waking up. He sat up and let out a shaky breath. "That was weird..." 

"Weird?" hea sked.

"Yeah."

"Can you tell me why?"

Frank struggled with his words. Matt could hear the tiny little gasps that came out of his mouth that indicated that much. His head was also lowered, muffling his voice. 

"You were trying to save me from someone," he said, laughing. "it was wear, sir, like I was some kind of damsel-in-distress or some shit like that. I was up on top of this roof and you came like running for me." 

"Did I save you?" Matt asked.

It was a silly question, and probably sounded a bit childish. Still, it was the question that was pressing on his mind, so he figured that he'd ask.

"Yeah, you did."

Matt found that at least a little bit comforting.

"Are you going to go investigate that man, sir?" Frank asked. Matt could hear the wince in his voice at his own use of sir. Frank was trying not to, but it was just so deeply pressed into his mind. "I mean, what am I saying? Of course you are..."

Matt smiled at that.

"You know me well," he said gently. "I appreciate that about you, Frank."

Frank nodded, grunting. Matt was pretty sure that he was biting his lip. He seemed to be dealing with something internal, something difficult. Matt allowed him time to sit, process his thoughts and try to express himself. Frank swallowed and took a breath.

"Would you permit me to come with you, sir?"

Matt stared at him. He had not expected Frank to ask for that, of all things.

"Why do you want to come with me?" he finally asked.

"Because, I want to make sure that you're safe," Frank admitted, slowly. "I swear I won't kill anyone; I won't hurt anyone unless it's life or death. I just...want to make sure that I can keep after you. Is that weird?" 

"No," Matt said. There was nothing normal about their lives, ever, but as far as the abnormal went -- well, it was fine. Frank cared about him, as much as he was probably loathe to admit it, and yeah, Matt cared too. "I appreciate that. I'd like you with me."

"Thank you sir." 

Matt sighed.

"Get some rest okay? I'm going to do the same for right now."


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once again sorry about the tiny chapters. I will always upload two at a time, but I want to keep the structure I used on the kink meme when this was originally posted.

Matt scouted out the correct scumbag quickly -- almost comically quickly. He was a reclusive gang leader who went by the code name Emery. He really felt like nobody in the scope of things, at least to Matt, who had seen the worst of them. Even though Emery seemed like a nobody, he was still worried. He was worried about what this man could do, and also the idea that he might have killed someone.

Killing was the line that he could not cross. Matt had a feeling, deep down inside of him, that if he crossed that line, then he would never come abck. It wasn't even the Catholic guilt thing that most would assume -- it was the darkness inside of him. He was a bad person, and he had a darkness inside of him. He could not feed that darkness.

"Are you sure you want to come?" Matt asked Frank, looking straight at him. He knew Frank had asked, but he didn't want Frank to do it if he wasn't prepared.

"I do."

So, Matt dressed and they headed onto the streets. Neither spoke much, but Frank kept so close to Matt that he could consistently feel the other's presence pressed to his. There were two men near the opening of the compound and Matt subdued them quickly.

The first, he knocked out,.

The other he gripped by the throat and pressed to the nearest wall.

"One of your people died recently," Matt explained. "How did it happen?" 

"You should know," he snarled in response. He struggled in Matt's grip. "You're the bastard who killed him." 

"Tell the man the truth," Frank growled, stepping up from beside Matt and staring him down. "He doesn't kill. What's your man want from him? "

"Ho-ly shit," emphasized Matt's struggling victim. Matt could feel him shift his weight. "The big bad Punisher escaped his little blind lawyer then. Or maybe..." 

He laughed. 

Matt could sense Frank's panic. His breathing quickened and his heart raced, fast. Frank didn't want his presence to destroy Matt's identity. Matt let go of his tight grip on the front of the guy's shirt and then tightened it again, slamming him against the wall. 

"Although I'm pleased that you haven't killed this one," drawled a voice from behind them. "I'm rather tired of you harassing my men." 

A tall man then stepped forward. Matt tried to get a read on him, but he was pretty cold. Not as sneaky as a ninja, exactly, but he had definitely learned to regulate his breathing, his heartbeat and the way he sounded when he moved.

"Who are you, and what do you want?" Matt asked. 

"I want your help, Daredevil," said the man who called himself Emery. "The man you killed was one of my best. He was my contact to various partners in the drug trade. It's a sad day to lose something like that."

Matt almost said that he didn't kill the man, but he stopped the words before they could leave him.

"Why would I help you?" he asked instead. "You know who I am and what I stand for. I don't know a thing about you, but I can tell you that our interests do not align."

"You don't know anything about me," Emery repeated in reply. "That's the key. You've fought men who wanted empires. All I want is my little corner of the world and I am entirely satisfied. I make a good amount of money through the endeavors of others, and keep my own involvement small scale."

"So, you're an unambitious criminal," Matt said dryly, staring him down. "That doesn't exactly charm me to you."

"It'd be a shame if your identity was leaked," Emery said with a laugh. 

He then took a step forward and made a grab for Frank. Frank instinctively pulled back and dropped down to his knees behind his master.

"You're the lawyer," he said decisively. "I got that information a little while ago, but you confirmed it tonight. I don't know how you pull off the blind thing, but that's kind of cool. You're Daredevil, and you've got them an they call the Punisher on his knees. You're immensely powerful and you'll help me, or I will use my connections to make who you are widely known. You'll lose him."

Matt paused and tried not to let the man see just how affected he was. Blindness and his mask kept him from showing it in his eyes at least, but to a trained eye it was obvious when someone was afraid -- and yes, he was afraid.

"Alright," he said, conceding slowly. "What do you want from me?" 

The man's smile was something he could literally hear.

"You will see."


	13. Chapter 13

Emery was a small time scumbag for a reason. That was all that Frank could think as he made his demands of Daredevil, of his Master. He thought small and those small thoughts kept him alive. His lack of ambition was the only thing that stood between him and a quick bullet to the head, and Frank was pretty sure the man was starting to figure that out. That was why he was out here in the big leagues.

That was why he had Daredevil in his hands. It was a chance move, honestly. Frank had to wonder if Matt had actually killed someone. As good as he was, it wouldn't surprise Frank, not really. Matt - Daredevil - his...his Master was a very good man, but an incredibly short sighted one as well. Frank had seen him move through evil-doers like they were made of nothing. If someone hadn't unexpectedly died at his hands, it'd be a miracle. Of course, he was very sure that Matt would never consciously kill. 

As he explained what he wanted from Daredevil, Frank's thoughts shifted to how easy it would be to kill him. He didn't even need a weapon, honestly. He could snap the bastard's neck in half of a second, and he was pretty sure this guy didn't have enough mooks for them to be a problem either. It would be too easy, except for the fact that Matt's life wasn't in danger and he could not defy his master's orders. No, he couldn't do it, no matter how much he wanted to.

Emery's demands of Daredevil were simple ones.

"First of all," Emery said, gloating in the worst, most pompous manner possible, "I want you to stay out of my affairs. I have a signal I can give you. If anyone you come to do your messed-up vigiliante justice against gives you that signal, you leave them be. Secondly, I'd like you to get rid of Dalton."

"Synthetic drug manufacturer," Frank whsipered under his breath, recalling a list he kept. He had run into some of the man's people when bringing down the gangs. Dalton supplied for some of the major families in the area. "He's quiet and supplies the major players, sir."

"Your little pet is wise," Emery huffed. "Kill him, get him put away for life; I don't care what you do to him, Daredevil, but you will make him disappear." 

"Or..."

"Or the whole world finds out exactly what the little blind lawyer has been hiding up his sleve," Emery teased, a grin slowly snaking ac ross his face. "You'll lose your credibility, your job, and your pet. Make it happen by this Friday, or else it all comes crossing..."

He turned and began to walk away.

"Please sir, let me."

"No. Not yet."


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mentions of suicidal thoughts in this part.

Frank watched Matt as he looked down upon Dalton's compound. The man ran a varied drug empire, but it was nothing on the scale of the heroin big shots. He did, however, have his hands in a lot of pockets. Honestly, from a criminal's point of view, getting rid of him would simplify things on a larger scale.

"Are you really letting yourself be blackmailed by some bastard with a grudge?" Frank asked, incapable of stopping himself.

Daredevil turned around and Frank fought the urge to drop to his knees. He flinched, the muscle memory of abuses past making it hard for hin to breathe.

Matt took two steps towards him, and then reached out. Frank, idiot that he was, recoiled like he was about to be struck.

"Sorry, I didn't mean..."

"It's okay."

Then, Matt did something that Frank didn't expect. He reached out and touched his shoulder -- just a gentle, friendly clasp on the shoulder. It was meant to be comforting and to Frank's surprise, it really was.

It eased his mind, just a little.

It was an unintentiomal side effect of what had happened to him, and how he had been trained. Frank realized it, and acknowledged that it was probably the best side effect. There was something about Matt's touch, his closeness, that was instinctively comforting. It was a strange feeling -- to be comforted. Nothing ever truly eased his mind anymore, but Matt did.

"Are you okay?" 

"Actually not bad," Frank said, sounding amazed. He couldn't even hide it. The anxiety that had been eating away at the back of his mind for years was calm when Matt touched him and he liked that. He liked it a lot. "Wondering a few things, though." 

"What's that?" 

"First of all, I'm wondering what our plan is," Frank said plainly. "I wanna know what we're doing. I'm guessing that you're not going to let me off the guy, so how do we get rid of him? Are the police going to come riding in tonight?"

Matt gave him a look that made Frank want to cower in a ball and die. It was the most frustrating thing in the world. The slavers had killed something fundamental about who he was and it was beyond frustrating -- it was killing him, slowly.

"I assume that means that the police are riding in, sir," he murmured softly, eyes fixed on the ground.

"They were tipped off, yeah," Matt admitted.

"Then why are we here?" Frank asked quietly, finding that questioning his master was getting more and more difficult. The anxiety was creeping up the back of his neck, and it made every muscle tense. "I mean..." 

"I just want to make sure that nobody gets hurt," responded the Devil, looking at Frank with a sad sympathy. He had some idea of what was going on and Frank found that humiliating. "I want to make sure this is as clean and quiet as possible." 

The seizure was very fast. Frank was actually impressed by the police work done. He had his opinions on officers of the law, but at least these guys were trying. The sergeant on the scene was quick, efficient and commanded his unit without drama or flair. 

"Your way might work tonight..." he whispered, under his breath.

"Sometimes it does," replied the man next to him, and Frank cursed himself quietly. He had forgotten, just for a moment, how powerful the man who owned him really was. "Sometimes it does, Frank." 

Once they were back at the apartment, Frank sat down. It had been hard for the first few weeks, sitting down without being told, but he had managed to work past that. Maybe that meant he could work things out, work past the other things, eventually. It would just take time -- a lot of time.

"I don't like being used," Matt said after some time. Frank watched as he walked across the room, undressing -- getting himself out of the suit. Matt wasn't ashamed or embarrassed about dressing him, and the thought briefly crossed Frank's head that wow, he was a gorgeous man. "I don't like that I'm being blackmailed, but right now all I can do is stay one step ahead of him."

"You won't win like that, sir," Frank said. He hated the way his voice sounded. It sounded too weak, too delicate. "You won't win while he's got something on you. You should let him tell. You'll lose your secret, but it doesn't matter that much, does it? You've already given up most of your other life..." 

"I don't want to give that up," the man said firmly. "I can't give it up." 

Frank tried his best to stay calm. He refused to cower.

"Sorry," Matt managed softly. "I just...look, if I lose you, then you're going to someone who's going to kill you."

"It'd be easier," Frank said, and he wasn't trying to be self-pitying, or sad, or anything like that. It was a legitamate question. "I mean, if someone else killed me then you wouldn't be at fault, or nothin' like that. It makes sense." 

"Do you want to die?"

The question was so blunt that he tried to distance himself from his master physically. He got up offo f the sofa and crossed the room, looking at Matt, who had just changed into a t-shirt and pajama bottoms.

"I want to finish what I started first," he said, trying to act like it wasn't a big deal. Frank had never really considered himself suicidal before, but there was the fact thath e'd planned on killing himself, or letting himself be kiled, when it was all over. "I want to take down every single person connected to what happened to Maria and the kids. After that's over, well, there's not really another chapter to the story."

Matt got up and walked over to him. He put both hands on Frank's shoulders in a very gentle gesture.

Frank almost thought that his master was going to hug him, but thankfully, he avoided that urge -- if it was ever there. Frank wasn't sure he could handle something like that. It was too sweet, too cheesy and too restrictive. Even though he knew, logically, that there was no way the man would ever be anything but a total saint with him, the idea of being too physically close, even to Matt, scared the shit out of him.

"I don't know how we're supposed to get through this," he admitted. "I don't really know how we're supposed to handle this Emery business, or anything else, but I know that I'm going to stay with you and we're going to handle it. I promise." 

"I trust you."


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I've been so busy that editing just hasn't been happening.

Frank found, over the next week or so, that he was actually recovering from what happened to him in the Slave Office. It was taking time, of course, but being in Matt's apartment was helping. He knew that he was safe, and that those people weren't going to get their hands on him again -- that knowledge was enough to allow him to pull himself together. He was slowly becoming himself again.

As himself, Frank knew that Emery couldn't be allowed to live. He knew how blackmail worked. The blackmailing party did more and more, and it got worse and worse until something gave. Matt would lose his secret identity and that was only the surface of it. 

"He's going to have to die," he told Matt quietly. He tried his best to bring it up subtly, but when that failed, Frank just said it. He wasn't sure that he could kill again without the permission of the man who owned him. Regardless of how he felt about the matter, his mind was warped. "You know that he can't be allowed to live."

"I can't kill him," Matt murmured, looking up. He wasn't wearing his glasses, and Frank had to admit that sometimes Matt Murdock's long, intense stare was intimidating. The man was just so...much. "We can't kill him. It doesn't solve anything. He's also not really a huge threat, not compared to what we've seen..."

"He's just another jackass, yeah," Frank agreed. "I agree with you on that, sir, but he's the jackass who's trying to out you. Have you thought about what's going to happen when you do end up getting outed?"

"I'll lose any chance I had to get back into law," Matt said, after some consideration. "Of course, I haven't practiced since Foggy left..."

Frank could see the pain in Matt's eyes and he wanted to say something comforting, but he'd forgotten how to be gentle a long time ago. He tried to say something better, but all that came out was a shallow, quiet, "I'm very sorry, sir."

"You really are, aren't you?" Matt asked, looking over at him. An expression of wonder came over his face and Frank had to wonder what that meant. "I underestimated a lot about you before all of this, Frank."

"It doesn't matter," Frank said quickly, in response to the sadness in his master's voice. It really didn't matter. "I am who I am, and I've done what I've done."

"I forgot that you were a good man before all of this, Frank, and I'm sorry."

"I don't think that I could judge someone as a good man, or...not a good man, if I were you, sir. I mean, I was a decent human being, but I was never a good man. I always had the potential to do what I did inside of me. Only God can judge and all of that, but I'm not a good man. Never was." 

"Okay..." Matt murmured, and Frank could see that he was at a loss for words. He didn't mind. It was better they didnt' talk in some ways. "I just know that if I was outed as Daredevil, that I'd lose you. The whole reason they stuck you with me is that I'll keep you alive and that I'm safe. Nobody expects much more of the blind lawyer on the side of good."

"They expect a lot from the vigilante who owns The Punisher, though," Frank finished quietly. "Yes, I understand that." 

"They'd accuse me of using you to do my bidding," Matt admitted, quietly. "I don't think the public opinion of Daredevil is that great, especially lately. I know there's been a bit of a blacklash in the media against vigilantes and...gifted types, especially in the last few months."

"I think we should kill him, sir."

"No."

Frank flinched backwards, stumbling and almost falling. God, he felt pathetic. He was a grown ass man who had lived a long, complicated life, and now a stern 'no' was enough to have him shaking in his boots. Did he really want to keep living like the thing they had turned him into? 

"Frank, I'm sorry..." Matt said quickly, shaking his head. "I didn't mean to."

"You didn't sir, you didn't," Frank assured. He kept his eyes on the floor. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure that we'll come up with something to get rid of him that doesn't involve offing him. If anyone can come to it, it's you, right?" 

"Yeah, it's me."


	16. Chapter 16

The phone rang suddenly, screaming out 'unknown caller' in its mechanical voice. It broke through Matt's deep thoughts, and the lawyer knew almost immediately that something was wrong. He grabbed the phone and put it to his ear.

"Hello?" he asked softly.

"Mister Murdock," Emery drawled, his voice distinguished and strong. "You did a very fine job in taking out that lowlife for me. I would have preffered that you used your...pet's preferred methods, but at the same time, well done."

"He's not my pet," Matt said immediately, even though he hardly needed to defend himself. "I did what you told me to do."

"Now, I Have your next task," laughed the man. "I'm impressed by your action, Daredevil, but now I need you to avoid the police. Specifically, you need to keep the police out of my colleague's affairs. He's shipping stuff in from the docks tonight, and the police are on high alert. I need a distraction that might help my friend out." 

"What exactly is this 'stuff' that's being shipped in?" Matt asked. He expected drugs, of course, because illicit substances were the fuel behind most criminal empires. 

"I'll stop you right there and save your soul," teased the man. "I hear that Mister Matthew Murdock is a devout Catholic, and the idea of allowing these transactions to take place might put a heavy strain on his soul." 

"Is this a human trafficking deal?" Matt asked, the dread growing in the pit of his stomach. "I won't do that, if that's what you're talking about. I just can't..."

"Okay, my contact will have the information about Daredevil's secret identity sent to all of the local news outlets by morning. Well, that is, if a little devil doesn't help me out. Goodbye Matthew." 

Matt looked down at the phone. His heart raced in his chest and he realized that he didn't know what to do.

"What is it, sir?" Frank asked softly from behind him.

Matt looked up. Sometimes he wished that he could see Frank, but he could almost hear the man's facial expressions sometimes. This time he was wearing one of stoic concern. It had to be.

"Emery," he said honestly. "He wants me to protect a deal that looks like human trafficking." 

"You can't do that," Frank said, quietly. "I get it, completely. You can't do it, but if you don't, then he's going to bring everything crashing down."

"Yeah," he murmured. "He is."

"Let me kill him, sir," Frank said quietly. "I know that's against your moral code, but it'll clear things up and you won't be outed. It solves everything. That guilt, that blame, can be all on me."

"I'm sure he has contingency plans," Matt murmured. "Plus, it'd be on me too, trust me." 

"I'm not sure what we can do then," Frank said. "It seems like a hopeless case, sir."


	17. Chapter 17

Matt had only fallen asleep for a moment.

With the current situation that was his life, he hadn't been sleeping well -- therein came the occasional catnaps that were happening more and more frequently. This was, of course, a problem when he was on a deadline. The deadline being when he would inevitably lose his identity, of course. Matt nodded off for what felt like a good half a second and then got up, sensing that the apartment was incredibly quiet - too quiet.

"Frank?" he asked, panic gripping him immediately. "Frank, where are you?"

"He's gone." 

Matt's head whipped around. He wasn't alone. How had he fallen asleep and not noticed someone entering his apartment? Who was that quiet? His training made someone sneaking up on him nearly impossible.

Foggy.

The presence was warm, familiar and too comfortable.

"What are you doing here?" 

"You've missed some of Karen's calls in the last week or so, but she can't leave her office right now. There's a big breaking news thing going on. So she asked me to come check on you, and I did. Here I am. Frank didn't leave any indication of where he was going, but there's a collar on your pillow - along with your mask." 

Matt knew, deep down, that the collar on his pillow had to be a message. Frank knew how much he needed his cover story. Frank knew what it meant to both of them, so he was going to take action.

"He's going to kill someone," Matt said, finally.

"Who?" Foggy asked.

Matt didn't know if he should tell Foggy, at first. He had cut himself out of Foggy's life and he knew that life, in general, was better for his best friend when he wasn't there. He did not want to add another burden onto someone who had already suffered plenty because of him.

The words, however, came right out anyway. 

"You didn't tell me. Why?" 

Matt was surprised to hear actual dissapointment in Foggy's voice. Before he could really find his words, however, he found himself stammering on excuses again.

"I couldn't," he finally said. "I cut myself out of your life so that I wouldn't be a burden to you any longer." 

"I don't know if you're a burden to me," Foggy said, and Matt could hear the frustration mounting in his voice. "Okay, Matt, you're a freakin' huge burden sometimes, but that doesn't mean that it was ever a burden that I wanted to give up. I love you, you know? I want to help when I can."

Matt could not speak for a moment. He was so surprised by the sincerity in his best friend's voice. Foggy meant every single word that he said. 

"I don't know what to do," he whispered. "I think Frank's going to take Emery out, and I know that I should be relieved by that."

"You probably should," Foggy agreed, bluntly. Matt had missed that direct logic, so much. "He's intent on taking you down and exposing your identity to the public. That's big and it's probably going to lose you Frank. It means bad things for both of you, and he's just dealing with it in his own deranged way."

"But on the other hand," Matt said, sensing the 'but' that insisted in Foggy's words.

"Exactly," Foggy managed, and Matt could sense the discomfort. "We're not killers, Matt. Do we really want to release someone like Frank? Even if it is on a bad guy..."

"Someone like Frank isn't exactly fair," Matt murmured, "but yeah. I need to go after him...Emery's...going to be near the docks when the shipment comes in...He wants to see if I carry out my end of the deal after all."

"Then we need to go there," Foggy replied, immediately.

"I need to go there," Matt corrected firmly. "There's nothing that you can do to stop this."

"Is there anything you can do to stop it?" Foggy asked, and for a moment Matt stopped, floored by the level of concern in his voice. He had pretty much figured that their friendship was over and done with, and that there was little he could do about it. "Matt, you're dead on your feet."

"I know," Matt said, "but we have to get there."

"Then you're not alone. Let's go."


	18. Chapter 18

The docks were empty and Matt felt vulnerable. Even in the suit, he was a vulnerable man on the verge of losing everything. Usually, Daredevil meant power to him, but lately that power had been stripped away from the man who so relied on it. 

"Are you sensing anything?" Foggy asked. Matt could tell that his best friend was terrified, and honestly, so was he. The idea of having Foggy in a place where things could get bad fast was wrong, and against everything he'd striven to accomplish. "Anything at all?"

"I don't think we're alone," Matt admitted, "but whoever is here doesn't want to be found yet. They're doing a very good job of concealing themselves." 

"Is that Frank, or your bad guy, though?"

"I don't know." 

"Also, are we trying to find and stop Frank, or just find your bad guy?"

"I don't know the ansnwer to that either," Matt replied, tersely. 

That was when he found Frank. His senses zeroed in on a rapid heartbeat and a warm smell, laced with gunpowder. That was Frank.

"Stay here," he told Foggy. 

Then, he ran. He ducked behind a stack of cargo crates, and there he found Frank. 

Matt never wanted to abuse the power he had as Frank's master, ever, but he found in that moment he had to do it. 

"Frank. Stop. Knees." 

Matt felt the words come out, almost as if they were being spoken by someone else. Guilt washed over him instantly. Who was he to use his position and Frank's past abuse against the man? It was an act of pure desperation, but he had never felt so dirty in his life. 

Frank went to his knees, immediately. Matt could feel that his hands were clasped behind his head. When he imagined the look on Frank's face it was one of utter subservience, mixed with horror and betrayal. 

Matt knelt down next to him.

"Frank," he said gently. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to do that. I just...I needed you to stop and not run away. You can't kill him."

"He...h-he's going to reveal everything," Frank said demurely. "Sir, he's going to reveal your s-secrets and I don't want that to happen."

The tremor in his voice was Matt's fault. Guilt flooded every bit of his being. Foggy rushed from where he was hidden and he stood there, looking at Matt and Frank. Matt didn't have to see Foggy's face to know that his best friend was horrified at what he was seeing. He should be horrified. Matt was horrified too, horrified at himself.

That was when a gunshot rang out and Frank sprung from his knees, shoving Foggy back to the ground violently.


	19. Chapter 19

Foggy and Frank went tumbling to the ground in a heap. Foggy hit the ground first, and Frank landed on top of him. Behind them, Matt sensed where the bullet had struck a crate, and heard a slow and steady clapping. The familiar heartbeat in the vicinity told him who stood there. Emery.

"Very nice move, Mr. Castle," he said, voic dripping with sarcasm. "I'm also very pleased with your development, Murdock. You've come into your own as a dominant, confident slave owner, for sure." 

Matt's face flushed with shame.

"I'm sure that the only reason you're here is because police are en route, correct? You brought your little pet here to cause a distraction." Emery's words dripped with sarcasm. "I had a sniper aim for the extra, because I didn't really want anyone else involved in this little deal. You'll have to forgive my lapse in judgement there. I get a tad tempermental when I'm working a rough job." 

"You nearly killed him..." Matt said calmly. Next thing he knew, he was lunging for Emery and caught his throat in hand. Matt realized then just how easy it could be. This would all be over if he just squeezed a little too hard, choked him to death, used the skills he'd developed over the years to snap his neck.

It would be all over if Matt could cross that line.

"Please, don't, sir." 

Frank's voice brought him back. Matt turned around towards him, sensing that Frank was moving back to his knees. 

Matt let go.

"Is he dead?" Foggy asked quietly, as Emery slumped to the ground in a heap.

Matt listened, and heard the steady heartbeat.

"No," he said. "He's just passed out. He'll be okay..." 

"You were going to kill him," Frank murmured under his breath. He had dropped to his knees, and his heart rate and breath showed Matt just how afraid he was. "You were about to kill him. If you could just let me finish it..." 

Matt's thoughts were running through his head a mile a minute. That was when he heard something through his thoughts, something real and present. Police. They knew that they were on the lookout for something tonight, and they were coming. 

"I want you both down there," he said, gesturing towards a secluded path that ran behind the shipping crates. He could feel the length of the path, and how the tall containers would block their visibility from police, and anyone else for that matter. "Now!"

Frank's conditioning made it hard for him to disobey, and Matt appreciated that completely, because he grabbed Foggy by the arm and made him run. They both hid, and then Matt was able to calm himself enough to hear the conversation of two cops.

"The tip was probably bogus," said one, an older man. He was tired, Matt realized, and irritated at the assignment. He was a good cop, though, because he was alert and looking all around him, even though he genuinely felt their tip-off was bad. "I mean really...I can't imagine that anyone's going to try to ship some rich foreign guy's sex slaves into the country through a public New York port. That's just insane, right?"

"Probably," said his partner, a significantly younger man. He was very new to the job, probably still in his early twenties. "I mean, unless they're taking refuge in the fact that it's that absurd."

"I don't know what to expect in this town anymore. I mean, it's become Daredevil's town in the last year or two, but the criminals are still out of their goddamn minds. Anything is possible."

Matt took a chance and jumped down so that he was right in front of them.

"Woah, no way, it's him..." whispered the younger officer. 

"Daredevil," said the older. "What are you doing here?" 

"The same thing that you are," he said delicately. "I heard a rumor about a shipment coming in. It seemed suspicious, so I figured that I would check it out..."

"It's probably nothing... It seems too..." 

He tensed. He heard something.

There was a ship approaching at the far end of the dock. He looked to the two cops, who both had rapid heartbeats, even though they'd yet to hear what Matt did. They were just nervous on principle, which was probably a good trait for a cop to have.

"There's something going down at the end of the dock." 

Then, Matt forced himself to run.


	20. Chapter 20

A ship had docked. There was one man, the man who was supposed to supervise late night shipments into the dock. He smelledl ike saltwater and hard work, and blood. He had been struck over the head and he was unconscious, bloodied, but still very much alive.

The ramp of the ship dropped and Matt was overwhelmed by the worst sensations of humanity. He could hear rapid heartbeats, cries of pain and hunger. He could smell human waste, body odors and drugs. There were twelve women aboard the ship, young, malnourished and pumped full of God only knew what. This was definitely a trafficking deal and he needed to allow it to happen.

No, he needed to stop it. His identity as Daredevil no longer mattered to him.

He stepped onto that ramp, and it seemed like his body did all of the work for him. It was a small job, an easy case for Daredevil. HE had taken down small time sex traffickers before, and it seemed like it was now second nature. He grabbed one by the throat and shoved him into the wall. Feeling him crumple to the floor was an instant relief.

When he reached the young women, horror overwhelming him, Matt dropped down to his knees to speak to someone.

"Do you speak English?" Matt asked the girls nearest to him, dropping down onto his knees. 

One of the young women in front of him shook her head, sniffling. Matt could hear the denial.

Another girl from the back, however, had a quicker heartbeat than the others. She had acknowledged his question and was one of the few, if not the only one, who had a positive, affirmative answer for him.

"I do," she said. Her accent was heavily Eastern European, but Matt couldn't quite peg the country.

"Good," Matt said. "Go, run. Take everyone with you that you can and head down, to the left, down the other side of the dock. There are two men there. One has a gun. They'll protect you."

Of course, that was the exact moment that the buyers chose to show up. They came in a small truck, and Matt could pick up their heat signatures. There were four, and they wereh eavily armed. He sprung upwards, ran out to the truck to do what he did best. He mounted the top of the truck. Upon hearing him, these men poured out, weapons in hand.

The fight felt fast. Several of the men involvedi n the trade got away, and Matt would have chased after them, but he was more concerned with the terrified young women who were headed across the docks. He darted back to assess the situation with Foggy, Frank, and the poor women who had been shipped across the world. 

The cops swarmed them and it was obvious to Matt that the good guys had won.

Of course, he had lost. 

"Him too," he told one of the detectives, looking to Emery's prone form on the floor. "Him too...He was overseeing this deal, tried to extort me." 

It was over, but it was far from over.


	21. Chapter 21

Frank looked at the newspaper article. The paper was next to Matt's form, sprawled apart. The man, who was hardwired into his brain as Master, was fast asleep. Matt hadn't even been able to read it, but Frank knew that he had examined it all the same. Even if Matt couldn't read the words, the very existence of such an article was driving him mad. It was very likely that he had fallen asleep out of pure exhaustion.

MASKED VIGILANTE LAWYER? 

He ran his fingers over the lettering, shaking his head. It was utterly tragic. Apparently, Emery hadn't just had sources, but layerso f sources. The article was substantiated by a lot of damning evidence. It was going to be nearly impossible for Matt to work his way out of this web, and Frank was pretty certain that it was too late to escape.

Matt's phone buzzed a moment later.

"Text message from Foggy..."

Frank pressed the button to keep the obnoxious automated text from reading out loud. Instead, he read the words himself.

'Get Frank and get out now, Matt. Police on way.'

It was amazing to Frank that Matt was able to sleep through this. Usually, the man couldn't sleep without his bed, his satin sheets and utter quiet. This time, however, he was exhausted. He was terrified of what was about to fall on top of him, and he was exhausted.

Now, it had happened.

Police.

No doubt coming to nab the slave that was in the wrong hands. 

Probably citing some anti-superhero code to do it.

Frank looked outside the window. They were already far from alone. There were several people outside. Probably reporters, waiting for the lawyer-slash-vigilante to come out, to say something. 

"Matt," he said, his insides struggling with the lack of proper address. "Wake up."

Matt sprung awake.

"Police are on their way," Frank said quietly. "Probably to retrieve me, sir. What do you want to do?"

The horror on Matt's face hurt.

"I don't know," Matt admitted. "I...I can get us out of here, maybe, but then the secret's out. I'm going to get disbarred, I'm going to lose you. I..."

Frank could hear the panic thumping in Matt's chest along with his heartbeat. He was losing his ability to have calm, rational thoughts. Of course, then again -- he'd lost that a logn time ago.

"Let's go," Frank said, deciding that he needed to make the decision for his master. They at least had to try to survive this. "Let's go now."


	22. Chapter 22

From a nearby roof, Frank and Matt looked down on his apartment building. It was swarmed not only by police, but by the media. Karen was there, and he could pick her heartbeat out in a crowd. She didn't want to be there, she was scared, and yet she wanted to do damage control. Frank didn't really think she was capable of that, as good as she was.

"They're calling for me," Matt said, closing his eyes. He had put on the suit, taking all other traces of Daredevil with them out of the apartment. "They're calling for me and demanding I return you to the woman with them. Do you see her? She's near the front of the crowd."

Frank looked down and saw a redheaded woman near the front of the crowd. He knew she was the one, even though unlike his companion, he could not hear what she was saying.

"She's a slave officer," he agreed. He didn't recognize her, but his days in the Slave Office were burned into the side of his broken brain. He knew the stance, he knew the expression. They were all the same.

"Yeah," Matt replied. "I should have let you kill Emery."

"It wouldn't have helped," Frank said, knowing that was the truth. "Guys like him always have failsafes for when they bite the big one."

"Frank, you should go."

Those words came so suddenly. Frank couldn't really do anything except for stare at his master.

"Where am I supposed to go?" he asked. He found that almost amusing. "I'm not a free man, sir."

"You've managed to avoid the police before," Matt insisted. "You're so good, Frank..."

"I can't go back," Frank said, his voic near to a whisper. He knew Matt would hear. "I know that it sounds weak, but I will not allow them to take me back."

"Please go, Frank." 

Frank, of course, knew that Matt was right. If he didn't try to escape, then he was going to end up back in the Slave Office for sure. He could not, in any way, live with that. He gave one last look to his master and then he ran.


	23. Chapter 23

"He escaped," Matt said evenly. As he spoke, he tried his best to evaluate the slave officer who was in the process of interrogating him. She was a young, ambitious woman, but she was obviously scared. She was too new to the job to have such a big task in front of her. "It's obvious why he did so."

"Is it?" she asked, leaning so that she was very, very close. "Why don't you explain why then, Mr. Murdock. To me, it is not quite so obvious."

"The truth's out," Matt replied coldly. "Or whatever version if it that people think they have. He's smart. He understands that what people think of me will lead to his being taken abck." 

"Why would we take him back?" she asked. Matt found the feigned ignorance to be utterly ridiculous. Even without his senses, she was fooling nobody. It was such a ridiculous act. "You are legally his owner, Mr. Murdock."

"I know what the conflict of interest here is," Matt said coldly. "No matter the result of this case against me, I won't be allowed to keep him. I know that, and I think he'd be an idiot not to realize it too." 

"He also knew the consequence of running," she said, her tone steady. Matt heard the fear underneath her cocky, arrogant tone and almost felt bad for her -- almost. She was young, and it seemed likely that she was being hazed, thrown into a case that was far too big for her. "Do you think he understand what will happen to him when he's caught?"

"I'm not him," Matt told her, keeping his tone even. "I can't imagine what he's thinking, but I can guess that he feels he has little to lose." 

The interrogations, sadly, did not end with the young woman. No, they went on and on for hours. The slave office, then the police; god they all had a million and one questions for him. He complied respectfully, patiently, although he refused to answer any questions about his identity until he had a lawyer present, of course. Then, a young cop confused him by saying words he hadn't expected to hear at all.

"There's a lawyer here for you."

Foggy walked in and sat across from him.

"I pulled a few strings and got you one of the firm's best lawyers," he said. "She'll be here in about a half hour, but I wanted to talk to you first. I can't stay involved due to a very clear conflict of interest, but you are going to be well represented, Matt. You'll be denying every claim that was made about you."

"How can I deny things?" Matt asked, confused at the very notion of lying. "The proof he has is pretty concrete, Foggy. It won't be hard for the prosecution to determine the evidence enough."

"Start thinking like a lawyer again," Foggy replied. His tone was firm, but Matt did not miss the tell-tale signs that his best friend was actually begging him. "If this was a crime, Matt, could we create enough plausible deniability?"

"Maybe." 

He did have a point. Regardless of the truth, there was a chance that a skilled lawyer could create enough reasonable doubt to his identity.

Still, it felt wrong.

Tears sprung to his eyes, but he fought them back down. He wasn't sure that he could handle this.

"Do you know where Frank is?" Foggy asked, reaching across the table and touching Matt's shoulder. The touch made tears much harder to fight off. "Any idea?" 

"No," Matt admitted. "I don't know where he is. I told him to get out." 

"You really care about him, don't you?" 

"I do," Matt admitted. "I know that he's a really messed up guy, and that he's done a lot of terrible things, but the world's done a lot worse to him, and yeah...he means something to me." 

"I don't know what we can do for Frank yet," Foggy responded, after a moment, "but I know the firm can help you. It'll be okay, Matt."


	24. Chapter 24

"Where are you going to go?" Karen asked. She stared at Frank with a deep, warm concern that reminded him of the past. "Wherever you go, they'll come for you." 

"They won't find me," he assured her. "I'll make sure of it. I just...I just need to ask you to take care of him." 

"Matt?"

"Yeah," he said gruffly, trying not to choke or trip on the words that he had to say. "He's just in this deep, and he's so...sad, you know?"

It sounded so simple, but that was all he could say.

"I'll look after him," she said. "I know that he's really important to you."

"He's my master," Frank laughed out, the words bitter. "It got beaten into my head so hard that I can't let it go."

Karen took a breath and a sympathetic expression washed over her beautiful face. It left Frank heated, a little bit embarrassed. He hadn't meant to let her in like that, especially not about his feelings, but little sleep and a hard life made it difficult to be anything but honest. Especially with someone so genuine... She remidned him too much of his wife sometimes. She was just a similiar soul, loving, sweet and kind, but so strong.

"I'll care for Matt," Karen assured. "Please, just worry about you, Frank."

"I will." 

\---

"He's gone," Karen whispered. She leaned close to Matt, her scent warm, familiar and comforting. "I'm not sure where he went, but he spoke to me just before he did and he's safe. I promise that he'll be safe." 

"Good," he breathed out. "I need him to be safe." 

"He asked me to take care of you," she admitted, taking a step back. "He cares for you, a lot, Matt." 

"It's because they hurt him," Matt whispered in reply. "He's been forced into thinking like that about me, Karen."

"I don't believe that," Karen replied, quickly. "The things they did to him made Frank feel subservient to you, yes, but the other things are real..."

"I care too much," he replied. "I care way too much." 

"Focus on you, okay Matt?' she comforted, stepping back over to him. She laid her hand on his shoulder. "Frank will survive. That's sort of what he does. You just need to focus on the legal..."

"Foggy insists that I have to lie," Matt injected blankly. He was still trying to cope with that.

"You do have to," Karen admitted. She was so close to him that her scent was overwhelming. "I know that's going to do a number on your guilt complex, but you really have to, Matt. If you get tangled up in legal issues then you can't be Matt Murdock, and you sure as hell can't be Daredevil. As many issues as you and I have had in the past, I think that the world needs both of you." 

"Does it?" he asked, surprised she felt that way.

At that, Karen surprised him by hugging him.

"It does, Matt," she assured. "It does." 

Matt was not entirely sure that he belived her, but Karen's words were still comforting. He needed that bit of comfort in his life, so he accepted it.


	25. Chapter 25

Time passed and the legal battle continued... Matt felt that he was literally exhausted, all of the time. Life was just hard, but Matt had done well enough convincing the world that he wasn't who they said he was.

He kept going. 

"Did you watch the news?" Karen asked, entering his apartment on a Saturday evening. She set her things on the chair near the door.

"What news?" 

Karen walked over to him and sat down on the sofa. She gestured for him to do the same by tapping the sofa with one hand. He heard the taps and joined her. She began to look something up on her phone as he sat down. 

She hit play on a video and Matt listened.

"A slave training facility in New Jersey was bombed today," said a nervous, yet outwardly confident female anchor. "The blast had no casualties, but two men, both trainers at the facility were shot at close range and killed instnatly. An estimated thirty slaves were freed in this raid."

Matt froze as she began to detail the scene. He knew, instinctively, that it was Frank who had orchastrated this. 

"He used his skills for something good," Matt said then, dryly. It made him nervous, of course, but something about Frank's actions felt right. "This is -- good, isn't it?"

"Keep listening," Karen whispered.

"And a major new development in the case occured just an hour ago," said the reporter. "A ground floor employee of the slave office, who asked to remain anonymous for his own protection, witnessed something extreme. His testamony is as follows --" 

"It was Daredevil. I know that he's one of those cloak and mask people who never leaves his location -- Hell's Kitchen -- but I follow superheroes, you know? I know it was him. I know what I saw. Daredevil came and he set off that bomb. He never wanted to hurt anyone...just to free the slaves." 

When asked why Daredevil would do such a thing, our source said only this: 

'I don't know why any of those vigilante types do anything. Maybe he doesn't agree with slavery. Maybe in his head we're doing wrong here.'" 

"Oh my god..." Matt breathed.

'Whatever Daredevil, or this person appearing to be Daredevil meant to do," said the woman, "his actions brought things into question. It brought up a conversation that America has needed to have for some time. What is humane in slavery? Are there issues of corruption in the industry that many credit with saving the country?" 

They then began to interview a Slave Office administrator and Matt tuned out. He could not listen to some man in a suit try to justify slavery. 

"Good or bad, Frank's done something big," Karen whispered. "He also took heat off of you. People will stop being so supicious of you and I think Foggy's firm can spin this in your favor." 

"I'm not sure that I love the idea of further lying, but you're right," Matt greed. 

"He's also exposing the Slave Office," Karen said brightly. Her eyes then widened. "Oh, Matt. I Have to go talk to my editor. I just had an idea. See you soon, okay?" 

"Okay..."


	26. Chapter 26

Slavery, by Karen Page. 

Matt ran his fingers over the words, reverently. Karen had done something good herself. She'd had a friend in the newspaper with a blind daughter print up a Braille copy of the article just for him, and here he was, thinking about the small acts of goodness that a person was truly capable of. 

He read -- 

"I always tried to ignore slavery. Growing up, it was just one of those hard truths that you turned your head away from. Haunted people who were less than people, slaves had to deserve it somehow, right? So, I avoided slavery, because I did not want to think about it. I am willing to bet that most of you feel the same way.

This year, I met a slave. 

Well, no, I did not meet him as a slave. I knew him briefly, before he was thrown into the system. He was a criminal, a man who had committed many violent murders. He was also, however, a victim of circumstance, and someone I learned much about.

Yes, that man. You all know him.

Meeting him as a slave was truly meeting a new person.

He had been broken. He had been trained to serve a master, yes, and that did not surprise me at all. What surprised me, personally, was the fear. He was so afraid. A raised hand left him in fear of being beaten, but that was far from the worst of it. A simple, kind gesture from his master made him brace for impending sexual assault, for rape. That man was terrified that the most protective soul I've ever met was going to rape him.

The man chosen to be his master is a kind man, and yet when he misspoke, he paralyzed his slave with fear. His slave feared violation.

Slavery is a removal of personhood and no crime is worthy of that. Yes, I understand that violent criminals need to be punished, and yes, I understand that prison is a sort of removal of liberty as well. Yet, our country was founded on many principals, and one of these principals is that we do not administer cruel and unusual punishment. Slavery violates that set of ethics.

I do not support slavery. I never will. I know that this column very well may cause controversy, and that I will be called out for both my bias, and my reliance on appeals to emotion, but really, this is an appeal to your logic, and your efforts as a community. I have seen, firsthand, the effects of slavery on a good man, and to be unbiased would be criminal. 

Matt's heart soared and ached all at the same time. Karen had taken a huge risk publishing those words. It was risky in general, and risky because of her ties to him, and to Frank. Of course, Karen had never been anything but brave. 

He turned to put the copy down and took a breath. He needed to lie down. He needed to sleep.

The brick crashed through his window after two in the morning.

Matt sprung from a dead sleep. He had been sleeping on the couch, and sprung to his feet. He grabbed hold of the brick, and felt the note tucked around it, written in Braille just for him.

' I have your slave, Matthew. Found him in New Jersey, oddly enough. Want him back? I wnat to see you at the slave office at 7am today.'

There was no hiding that it was Emery. The note even smelled like the bastard. Matt ripped a piece off of it and called the police as he changed his clothes.

"Hello. My name is Matthew Murdock. Yes, the one they accused of being Daredevil. No, it's not true. I just need help. A brick went through my window. I'm not home, though. No. I was out with my friend and I slept on his couch. My neighbor just let me know she heard it happen. Can you send someone to check it out? Thank you. I'll be there soon." 

Matt would be gone before they thought to leave the police station.


	27. Chapter 27

Matt stood two blocks away from the Slave Office, on the roof of an adjoining building. He was far enough from the building that he, himself, would not be spotted, but he had already managed to pinpoint Emery. The man wasn't bluffing about having Frank, either. Even from a distance, he could smell him, and could hear the distinct way Frank breathed.

He knew Frank, and he knew that it was his duty to save him.

Sergeant Brett Mahoney, on the other hand, only knew that he hated Matt Murdock. Daredevil or not, the guy was a colossal pain in the ass. A note had been left at the scene of the Murdock break in with the words 'Slave Office' written in Braille. Brett's colleague, Daniels, had a blind daughter, Melissa, and had taught her to read it himself. He told Brett immediately what it said. 

Murdock had known he'd bring Davis. Davis was his partner, for god's sake. Maybe he was up to something.

Then, Brett and his team arrived near the office, and he saw red. 

Goddamn it, Murdock was the devil himself.

"Go North," he told Daniels and their backup. "I want you to check for any and everything." 

While they went to the left side of the building, Brett took it upon himself to go right, to the alleyway against the building.

"Murdock." 

"I'm sorry, Brett," them an said simply, jumping down from the rooftop to land in front of him. "You don't deserve this." 

"No, I don't," he replied. "So, why am I here, Matt?"

Matt flinched at the use of his name. 

"Police recently lost an apprehended suspect called Emery. He's here, and he's waiting for me." 

"Why is he here? I want real answers, Matt." 

"He has Frank Castle," Matt said, voice as even as he could manage. That wasn't easy, of course, when Brett's pulse immediately raced.

"He has a fugitive slave," Brett replied. "PLease tell me that you're not asking me to help him." 

"I'm going to fight slavery with everything in me," Matt assured. "I know that you don't believe in it either."

"I read Karen's article, but..."

"You and Foggy have discussed slavery before," he pointed out quickly. "You said you were against it."

"My personal feelings are irrelevant. I'm not going to help you commit multiple felonies."

"I'll do that on my own," Matt replied instantly. "Just help me grab a dangerous criminal, okay?"

Gunshots rang out, exploding in Matt's ears. Hew knew that meant that the police had found Emery. There were two cops coming at he and Frank from either sides. Frank took the gunshots as an opportunity to slide into the space beneath a dumpster.

Matt lunged at Emery and grabbed him by the throat, instinctively.

"Idiot," Emery tsked, even while struggling to get out of Matt's tight grip. "Where is your slave, exactly?"

Matt honed in on Frank with his senses. Frank had skidded underneath the garbage can and was waiting. At least one of the cops had figured it out. 

"Come on out, Punisher," he called. "We know you're in there and you're unarmed. Just give it up."

The dumpster was swarmed by police. Emery had made it so that Frank couldn't get out alive without breaking his code and killing someone who was innocent, or at least on the right side of justice. Frank crawled out from under the dumpster, beating back assailants, and shots rang out. There were too many of them and they had bullets. Matt smelled the blood.

Matt let Emery go and ran for Frank.

"Get down," he yelled, putting himself in front of his slave. 

Apparently, his tone was enough to make the wounded Frank retreat a little, because Matt heard his body touch the back of the dumpster. 

Emery went to flee.

"He's getting away from you again!" Matt yelled at the cops and chased Emery down himself, hoping to draw some of the heat off of Frank.

"Go!" Brett yelled, urging the officers towards Emery. 

"Boss, why him?" a cop asked from Brett's side, as he pointed them towards Emery. "Punisher's gonna get away...He's a runaway.'

"Just go, Braxton!" Brett yelled. "Do you wanna die, man? I was on the Punisher case. I've seen the bodies. Just get this Emery creep."

Matt knew he owed the man the world.


	28. Chapter 28

Matt and Frank only had moments, and there was so much left to say. Matt felt that he was entirely at a loss.

"You need to go as far as you can," he said decisively. "I'd reccomend heading to Canada, but I doubt that you'll listen to me." 

"I can't bring down slavery there," Frank responded. "I can't do my job in Canada." 

"It is a better quest than revenge," Matt said, reluctantly. "What you did was very brave. It made a real stand."

"It also took the heat off of you. Your lawyers can use that." 

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah, I will be," Frank assured him immediately. "I feel a lot better. I mean, I don't wanna get on my knees for you right now and that's a big start." 

It took Matt a moment to catch the faint hint of humor there, but it was there all the same. It made him smile unexpectedly and also led him to wonder what Frank Castle had been like before his world was torn apart.

"That is something." 

"What about you? Are you going to be okay?"

"I am." Matt surprised even himself with those words. "I'll get through this one." 

"Be safe," Frank said.

"You do the same." 

"Sir?" Frank asked.

Matt froze. It was always going to be jarring to hear Frank talk about him in such a manner. The man was improving, for sure, but recovery was going to be a very long road.

"What is it?"

Matt could feel the tension in the air; it hunt between them and waited - just waited for something.

Frank kissed him. 

Out of all of that tension, he leaned over and kissed Matt gently, but with a grim determination plastered across his face. Matt fell into the kiss, arms around Frank, just holding on tightly. It felt so right - it felt like melting, slipping into something better than he was.

"I'm sorry," Frank whispered when their lips parted. Matt didn't have to be able to see to sense the clear rush of panic. "I had to do that."

"No..." he managed. "Don't - don't be sorry, Frank. That was not...not bad."

"Not bad, huh?" Frank laughed. "I guess that's a compliment. I'm sure I used to get better than 'not bad' though."

"Why did you kiss me?"

"I wanted to," Frank said, and there was nothing in his heartbeat or his heavy breathing that indicated a lie. "I beat myself up for awhile, convinced that those feelings were made up by them, manufactured or something, but they're not. I wanted to."

"I believe you."

"So, I just wanted you to know how I was feeling before I go."

"I feel it too," Matt finally admitted. "I know that I feel a lot." 

"I hope I'll be seeing you." 

"You will," Matt said, trying to be confident. "Trust me." 

"I do," Frank assured softly. "But si...Matt. I'm not a changed man and I hope you don't hate me for that. I'm not, not entirely." 

"What do you mean?" 

"I wanna stop the slavers, and this is a new sort-of purpose for me, but I'm a killer. I won't stop being that." 

"You don't have to be anything, Frank."

"I know," Frank replied. "Mostly this is just a warning. Don't hate me." 

"I won't."

"Goodbye, then." 

Deciding that he needed to act, Matt stepped forward. He felt Frank shrink back in instinctive anticipation, but the man did not move far. Matt leaned over and pressed his lips to Frank's again, enjoying the drag of their lips against one another's. He reached up and pressed his hand to the man's face, and then pulled back.

"I'll be seeing you."

It was two months before Foggy left his fancy job, and Nelson & Murdock was reignited. It seemed that Karen had unknowingly left Foggy with a deep passion for undoing the evils of slavery, in spite of his opinion of Frank. Matt, too, wanted to refocus the new firm's efforts on the rights of all human beings. 

So they started the good fight.

People still believed he was Daredevil, despite the fact that he'd denied it, and Frank's game of dress up cast doubts. It was impossible to close a can of worms that had been opened. Still, Matt was more concerned with the new mission statement of his firm.

Helping those who deserve their humanity.

Every couple of weeks, he would hear about some effort on Frank's part. Many of Daredevil's attempts on slave offices led to that office subsequently shutting down. People died, and Matt tried his best not to let that bother him.

There was a hope and a future for those burdened by slavery, and Matt Murdock was not the only man working toward that goal.


End file.
